


Mother's Day

by Booker_DeShit



Series: Booker_DeShit's One-shots [20]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, Cemetery, Children, Crying, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Good Guy Joey Drew, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Jo-jo bonds with his son, Light Angst, Mother's Day, Newborn Children, Original Character(s), Sad, Sad and Happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:20:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24111199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Booker_DeShit/pseuds/Booker_DeShit
Summary: Joey Drew always loved his ma. And even if she had been dead for 60 years, he still takes the time to see her on Mother's Day.
Relationships: Implied/Referenced Joey Drew/Henry Stein, Joey Drew & Original Character(s)
Series: Booker_DeShit's One-shots [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1434427
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Mother's Day

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my personal BATIM AU, also knows as the Drew Crew AU or Followers of the Ink AU.

There was a scuffle behind the door leading into Joey Drew Studios. People walking outside would have heard it with easy, but rarely did anyone pay much attention to the yells & odd noises coming from the studio. Ever since the ‘grandson’ of the original owner inherited it sometime in the 70s all manner of unnatural on goings had been going on behind the wooden walls of the once-decrepit studio.

So, when the owner of the studio, Joey ‘Jo-jo’ Drew, burst through the door in his wheelchair, no one person turned at the noise. Jo-jo adjusted the baby carriage that had been kindly attached to the front of his wheelchair by Thomas, made sure the bunch of flowers on his lap wouldn’t fall off, & began wheeling himself in a seemingly random direction. This was the morning of May 10th, 2011, & Jo-jo was on his way with his son down the streets of New York. Benjamin, the oldest of three, clutched onto his Bendy plush, his pale, little face peeking out at Jo-jo. The visually imparied baby cooed & giggled as the wind brushed through his black hair, & he sat up to hear everyhing better. Jo-jo didn’t often bring his children out of the studio, where he & the rest of their ragtag family lived. Alice, much like her dad, Henry, didn’t like all the people & loud noises. Bo, on the other hand, stuck to Al’s side like he was glued to it, at least he has been lately. Ben, on the other hadn, adored the outdoors, & so Jo-jo thought it only right to bring him out that day.

Jo-jo zoomed down the street, cooing at his inquisitive, little son, “Almost there, sweety. We’re going to meet grandma. Yes, grandma.” Jo-jo chuckled as Ben began cooing again, reaching his chubby hands out at his papa. Grandma? Who was this curious person his papa often talked about? He was about to find out as Jo-jo turned at a corner, his wheels bumping against the slight raised piece of sidewalk as he drove straight into the cemetery. He zoomed past the beautiful decorative graves far back, to the very end, where two plain stone graves stood. Jo-jo turned to the one on the right, places the flowers upon it.

Mabel Drew died in 1951, not long after her husband had perished in the Second World War. She had been there for her son when he had opened his studio, reached out to his dreams. But she hadn’t been there when the ink machine blew up, she wasn’t there to watch her only child become an abomination made of ink & souls, & for that Jo-jo was grateful for.

“Hi, ma. It’s good to see you again. Look who I brought with me today,” Jo-jo exclaimed with a teary smile, tickling his son’s tummy. The baby gurgled out a laugh, grasping onto his papa’s gloved hand, “This is Benjamin, your grandson. Henry & I finally decided we wanted to have kids. We waited with it long enough, didn’t we? Sorry, ma. I wish you could be here to meet him. Ben also has siblings, Alice & Bo. And the studio is growing again! We’re doing so well, I couldn’t have ever imagined us to do so well back in the 50s. We’re still such a hit, despite the new century & all. It’s amazing.” Ben cooed at him when he went quiet, silent tears messing up his makeup. Jo-jo tickled Ben’s tummy again, then booped the baby’s small nose. A small smile made its way onto Jo-jo’s face & he turned round, heading back out of the cemetery.

A new century, & yet it didn’t stop hurting. But Jo-jo had a new family now, & he had achieved his dreams like his ma always told him he would. He wouldn’t have gave that away for anything. 


End file.
